


A Powerful Absence

by curiouswombat



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Canon - Engaging gap-filler, Characters - Family Dynamics, Characters - Friendship, Characters - Well-handled emotions, Drama, Fourth Age, Plot - Bittersweet, Plot - Tear-jerker, Writing - Engaging style
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 11:34:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3727297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiouswombat/pseuds/curiouswombat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A simple accident, some  years after the end of the Ring War, leaves Elladan coping with life in Middle Earth without his twin.</p><p>Complete.</p><p> </p><p>  <strong></strong><br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015.

After all they had been through together, for it to come to this; the thought went around and around in Elladan's head as he cradled the still figure of his brother in his arms.  Heavy rain, a scrambling animal, a young horse…

They had ridden forth, for the pleasure of feeling the early spring sunshine, planning only to stay out for a few hours.  Elrohir had taken the young gelding he had been schooling. 

Heavy rains in the week past must have loosened small stones in the bank above them and some small animal, scrambling for a foothold, had sent a pebble shower down onto Elrohir and his mount.  Elrohir had come unseated as the gelding reared suddenly, fallen onto the stony surface, his head had hit a jagged rock….

After all they had been through together, for it to come down to this…

Elrohir's face was white, his eyes looked at nothing, his thick black hair was matted with blood – or maybe worse.  Elladan's hand was on his brother's chest – it was still.  There was no movement of breathing and, now, no steady thump of heartbeat.  He could not comprehend that it was so; his mind refused to accept what his senses told him.

Then he heard Elrohir's voice, clearly, inside his head.

"Dan, Dan, I am so very sorry, Dan…  I should have been more careful.  I cannot stay much longer.  But you _must_ promise me that you will not attempt to follow me; not by _this_ route nor, yet, any other.  Promise me!"

Elladan tried to focus on his brother's voice.  He understood the words; he understood what was happening; and yet all he could really comprehend was that he held his brother's body in his arms.

Elrohir's voice continued, urgently.  "You must stay.  Arwen and Estel need you.  You must stay.  Promise me!  Do not give in to grief – promise me… _now_ Dan!"

"I… I…" he stumbled, even within his own head, on the words.

"Dan – I am truly sorry.  I thought that we would make our choice together – but I know now that mine is made.  I am of the Firstborn; I hear Lord Namo call me to Mandos Halls and soon I must obey.  They will need you until… until it is Estel's time… stay with them.  I do not want to make your choice for you – but I will see you in Valinor, my brother, if you choose it…    

"I must go…  Promise me!"

Hardly knowing what he promised, Elladan nodded.  "I… I promise…"

He felt, quite clearly, a kiss on his cheek, heard "I love you, Dan…" and then there was nothing but a sighing breeze.

After all they had been through together, for it to come to this; to be severed from his twin, the other half of his fëa, by heavy rain, a scrambling animal, a young horse…

Hours later the search party found the twins, Elrohir's head still cradled against Elladan's chest, one alive, one dead.  Elladan seemed almost as if his fëa, too, had fled his body – he looked blankly at them when they spoke, or took him by the arm and rode, when helped onto his horse, only by instinct.

 ……………………………….

 He knew that he was lying on his bed, in his own rooms, but it seemed as if everything around him was a dream, a pain-filled dream.

"We will lose him, too…" he heard Glorfindel's voice, "how can we tell Arwen and Estel?  Celeborn?  How will I ever face Elrond or Celebrian?"

" _You must stay.  Arwen and Estel need you.  You must stay.  Promise me!  Do not give in to grief_.   _Promise me…_ now _Dan_!"  Elrohir's voice echoed, unbidden, in his memory.  He tried to drive it out, forget the words, to lie still within the pain.

" _Arwen and Estel need you!_ "  Still the voice echoed in his memory.

"I… I will go and tell Arwen and Estel."  They were the first words he had uttered since… before.

They did not let him ride alone; Glorfindel rode beside him, others behind.  As each day of the well known route passed it seemed less real, more like a dream, easy to believe that Elrohir was still at home.  But then the knowledge, that he had to tell Arwen and Estel that their brother was dead, brought reality back to him. 

Each night he tried to deny that reality before he rested; after the first few nights, when images of that still, pale body, stalked his dreams, he tried not to sleep.  Glorfindel noticed, and began to soothe his rest as if he was an elfling – he wanted to object, but didn't.

Eventually they rode up the steep streets of Minas Tirith to the courtyard of the King's House.  For only one brother to visit the Royal couple, especially in the years since the twins had taken over as Lords of Imladris, was not unheard of and so nothing forewarned the royal couple of the news Elladan brought.

Even so, as soon as she looked at her brother, the Queen's face blanched and she insisted he tell her what was wrong.  Elladan found he could not hold back the truth; Glorfindel had to support her as they hurried back indoors, away from the eyes of the court – her husband could hardly walk unaided himself. 

Elladan had expected their grief, had steeled himself for it so that he would not collapse completely under it.  What actually happened next he had simply not considered at all; his sister turned on him, beat him with her fists, demanded to know how he could let Elrohir die. 

He stood motionless, wordless, shocked beyond telling.  He had accused himself in the same words over and over – if Arwen also accused him of being at fault it must be so. 

He remembered little more of that day – he shut his fëa so deeply inside that nothing outside his body registered.  At night he found himself lying on the bed in 'his' room in the King's House and was almost surprised to find that he was not alone; he could not believe anyone would care about him when it was his fault that Elrohir was dead.  Glorfindel sat beside the bed, murmuring gently that he should feel no guilt, it was not his fault. 

He slept, but was not rested; inside his head words warred all night.  He did not know if he could ever face his sister, or Estel, again.  So much for Elrohir's insistence that Elladan remain, not follow him to Mandos Halls, because Arwen and Estel would need him.

As the sun rose, and the day began, the sounds outside the open window were muted.  Glorfindel said that the guards wore black armbands and there were black ribbons on their pikes – signs of mourning.  Elladan could not bring himself to look. 

A servant had knocked gently on the door, a little earlier, but Glorfindel had dismissed them.  At mid-morning there was another knock but this time the door opened, before Glorfindel reached it, and Estel entered.  He was dressed all in black and he looked more tired, and older, than Elladan had ever seen him.

Elladan waited for the words of accusation and blame that were sure to come.  Instead Estel came to him, flung his arms around him, buried his face in Elladan's shoulder, and wept.

"Muindor-nín, muindor-nín," Elladan could only just make out Estel's words, as his voice broke with grief.  ( _My brother, my brother_ )

He realised that Estel meant both of them, that his tears were for both Elladan and Elrohir.  Something inside felt as though it had broken and Elladan wept alongside this 'baby brother' of his heart.

"I told the children last night," Estel said eventually.  "They are upset, of course, but they all want to see you when you feel able."

Elladan wondered if they, too, wanted to blame him.  Estel must have known his very thoughts, though, as he continued speaking.

"The girls all thought that you needed to be hugged.  Eldarion did not phrase it in quite the same way but he wants to tell you, in person, how glad he is that you came to tell us yourself, that you did not just send a messenger.  He needs you, I think, before he can let himself cry, as a child, rather than try to be strong for his sisters."

Estel paused briefly, and then went on, "I understand how he feels because I, too, needed you, my brother, before I could let my tears flow.  I am sorry, Elladan, to behave like that."

Elladan reached out and held the King close to him again, reassuring him that it was right for them to share their grief.  Elrohir had been right, Estel did need him.  Eldarion, too, needed him.  But what about…

"Arwen?" he asked Estel.

"She is calm now.  But she is ashamed to come to you; she doesn't really believe Elrohir's… death… is your fault, Elladan."

Elladan was less than sure about that, but said nothing.

"What has distressed her so is that she will never be able to say good-bye to him," Estel went on.  "Neither will I, but it is very hard for her to come to terms with. 

"She had expected that you would both be here for her, when it is my time to die, that she would say her farewells to you then.  But Elrohir will go to Mandos and then, at some time, be re-housed and re-awoken in Aman.  Arwen will follow me beyond the circles of this world and she will never, ever, see Elrohir again.  Unless he had chosen mortality…"

Elladan could hear, as clearly as if his twin stood beside him, " _I thought that we would make our choice together – but now I know that mine is made.  I am of the Firstborn._ "

He knew that this, too, would be his own choice – there had never, really, been any doubt.  The only doubt had really been whether to sail, or stay in Imladris, knowing that he might slowly fade there over centuries.  Now he would have to choose between his land and his brother… but that choice did not need to be made just yet.  He admitted to himself, though, that his final path had already been determined at the bottom of that bank in Imladris.

Elladan knew that he must pass Elrohir's parting words on to Estel, and hence Arwen, even though it would take away from his sister all hope that her brothers might follow her along the path of mortality. Death would now separate her from them until the World was remade.  
  
……………………………….  
  
Time flowed on.  Eldarion and his sisters grew, slowly by the measure of ordinary men, to adulthood. It seemed, throughout those years, as if Arwen had difficulty coming to terms with Elrohir's death; she rarely mentioned him within Elladan's hearing and turned away if Elladan ever mentioned his twin.

More than once, over those years, Elladan wanted to give in to the emptiness he still felt, day by day, but he was not always sure whether he wished to simply fade away – not eat, not move from a favourite spot until his hroar could take no more and his fëa would be free – or to leave for The Havens.

He envied Legolas his sea-longing – even though he knew that every day the other elf stayed in Middle Earth was an individual small battle.  But, if Elladan had been struck with the sea-longing on that same journey, he knew that Estel would now have encouraged him to leave.  Then he could have ignored that oft-remembered voice saying " _You must stay.  Promise me!"_

Yet when he thought of taking the path to The Havens, or that soft, slow, fading path to Mandos, he knew he could not.  He would, eventually, see Elrohir again but, if he left Middle Earth whilst Estel and Arwen lived, he would regret time not spent with them until time itself was no more.  And so he came, every few years, to spend time in Minas Tirith, with his sister and the brother of his heart.

There was never any doubt of the warmth of his brother's welcome – but from the day he told Arwen of Elrohir's death it was as if there was an unseen wall of ice between them.  Estel, and Arwen herself, reassured Elladan that she had never, truly, blamed him for the death of his twin… and yet that divide was there.  Sometimes, when they were in the same room, he felt her absence almost as much as he did Elrohir's.

He discussed it, once, with Grandfather.

"She thinks it will make it easier to say goodbye to you," Celeborn said.  "Easier too, she thinks, for you to say your farewell to her when the time comes."

Perhaps, Elladan thought, she was right; but _he_ had never felt so alone, despite the friendship of Glorfindel and the others who remained, or the contact with his grandfather.

Then, in the fifty-fifth year of the reign of King Ellesar, Elladan came to meet Eldarion's new daughter.  As he rode into the courtyard of The King's House, for the first time in all the years since he had ridden in with news of Elrohir's death, his sister met him as he got down from his horse.  Ignoring all protocol – Elven and Gondorian – she threw her arms around him and held him close.  She kissed his cheek and he felt a wave of love wash over him.  He felt tears on his cheeks and cared not who saw them.  Arwen was truly his sister again.  He was no longer alone – although he did not, immediately know what had thawed that wall of ice.

Once he was sure that his beloved sister no longer kept her fëa apart from him, Elladan asked her what had made her brave enough to open herself, again, to the pain of future loss.  It was, she said, when she saw her grandson welcoming his infant sister – the care with which he held her, the love in his eyes. 

Ever after, Eldarion's eldest son and daughter were, secretly, Elladan's favourite great niece and nephew…

............................

End Chapter One of Three.


	2. Chapter Two

Men told Elladan that time healed the wounds of loss, dimmed the pain; it was not true – at least for elves or peredhel.  Half a yen had passed, since they had buried Elrohir's empty hroar, but his absence was still an aching hole in his twin brother's life.  
  
Now Elladan kept the pain to himself; he had learnt to cope with the realisation, striking afresh every morning, that part of his fëa was missing.   Only Grandfather, separated as surely from Grandmother, showed oft times by a word or glance that he understood there was no dimming of the pain.  Elladan wondered how their father had been able to bear, for over five hundred years, waking each morning without his wife.  
  
He wondered, sometimes, if Elrohir was already re-housed in a new hroar in Aman, already reunited with their parents – did he feel the same painful emptiness without Elladan?  Did he regret those last words, fëa to fëa, tying Elladan to this side of the sea whilst Aragorn and Arwen lived?  Or was the pain of separation also eased in the Undying Lands?  
  
Elladan hoped it was; yet he knew that even if his twin awaited him, standing at the shore day after day, Elrohir would not want Elladan to leave their sister and brother behind in Middle Earth.  
  
More time passed; now Eldarion's sons and daughters had children of their own.  There were few people left in the White City who could remember a time before the reign of King Elessar, who knew that the King and Queen had ever had more than one brother, or that those brothers had ridden to war to help make this country free of the shadow.  
  
Time now was growing short.  To Elladan it seemed as if it both flew on eagles' wings and crawled slowly as a worm.  In Imladris trees grew, or fell, but the elves remained the same.  Fewer in number, though, as more packed up and made the journey to The Havens, carrying letters and drawings to those across the seas.  
  
In the world outside the hidden valley, however, the flight of time was clearly seen.  Estel could no longer best all comers with his sword; his hair was almost as silver now as Grandfather's.  The hobbits, who had been part of the Fellowship that had left Imladris on that cold winter morning, were no more; Éomer's grandson led the people of the Riddermark; Faramir had been laid to rest beside his wife.  
  
Gimli, too, was ageing - his beard was now grizzled grey and he complained that his knees ached when he was above ground in the rain.  Legolas looked as he had since Elladan first saw him; unless the wind blew up from the sea and then he seemed as taut as his bowstring.  In a quiet, hidden, spot in the woods of Ithilien Legolas was seasoning wood; clearly he, too, felt that time was marching inexorably on.  
  
Arwen looked little different, if seen through mortal eyes, but to her brother she also showed the passage of the years.  Her fëa seemed somehow stretched out, thinner; her body somehow a little less substantial.  Every time he saw her Elladan craved, again, the presence of Elrohir for comfort as mortality claimed their little sister.  
  
……………………………….  
  
Grandfather arrived at Imladris with nothing but books and drawings, some jewels of Grandmother's, and a small trunk of clothes.  Gradually many of his Galadhrim, who had joined him in the forest of East Lorien, had left to follow Grandmother to the west.  The last few had gone to live with the wood elves of King Thranduil, or come to fill empty rooms in Imladris.  
  
"I will stay," Grandfather said, "when you follow your heart to the west.  I will stay as long as I am needed.  I will stay for Arwen if you have to go."  
  
"I will wait until both are gone.  I do not think it will be long," Elladan told him.  "Estel will choose, just as Elros did, to take Ilúvatar's gift before his body begins to betray him.  Arwen will choose to follow quickly."  
  
Grandfather said nothing more but, just briefly, a shadow crossed his face.  
  
All too soon, after that conversation, the message came from Minas Tirith that King Elessar wished to see his family and his friends.  They knew.  Although Grandfather rode at his left, Glorfindel at his right, Elladan felt more alone than he could have imagined.  When he had spoken of this moment with Elrohir they had expected to ride this path together; face this double loss together; ride back to the peace of Imladris together…  
  
"I want you to know that I have been honoured to have spent my life as your brother.  I cannot imagine what my life would have been without you and Elrohir in it."  Estel's voice was still strong, but Elladan knew this would be the last time that he would hear it.  "Tell Elrohir my words, when you are re-united, my beloved brother."  
  
They held each other close and then, warriors both, they straightened their shoulders before Elladan walked out of the room knowing that he would see Estel alive no more.  
Only his wife and his son stayed at the King's side as he lay down on his bed, Andúril held in both hands, and closed his eyes.  
Those in the ante-room with Elven blood knew immediately when Estel passed out of his body even if the others did not hear Arwen's quiet cry.  Eldarion, his face streaked with tears, said nothing as he opened the door for them some minutes later.  
  
To her brother, Arwen seemed to have been… diminished.  Elladan had expected her to cling to him; or if not him, then Grandfather; or Eldarion.  Instead she had about her an air of untouchability as she knelt for many hours, her head on her husband's unmoving chest, and then as she followed his bier along Rath Dínen to the marble tomb already prepared.  
  
Elladan comforted his nieces and nephew as they mourned their beloved father – and prepared also to mourn their mother.  They believed, as Elladan did, that Arwen would now lie down as their father had and take the gift of Ilúvatar.  
  
Arwen did, indeed, say farewell to all her family members, quietly, calmly, as if she had no emotion left.  Then she, too, lay on the bed she had shared with her husband as all her close family stood around her.  They waited for that last soft breath, and then the silence; but still her chest rose and fell.  
  
Grandfather softly sent almost everyone else away until only he, Elladan, and Eldarion remained.  When the next morning broke Grandfather sent Eldarion out to see to his tasks as king.  As dusk approached Arwen opened her eyes and sobbed, piteously, reaching out to Elladan.  The sound broke his heart.  
  
"I do not know how to do it.  Estel did not tell me how to die and I do not know how to…"  
  
Grandfather showed no surprise at her words as Elladan gathered his baby sister in his arms and rocked her.  He had held Elrohir as his life slipped away despite his efforts to remain and, now, he held their sister as she tried to die and could not.   He longed for the strength of his twin to sustain him and found himself blaming Elrohir for not being here.  
  
"Come, then, little star, to Valinor instead," he said, trying not to sound as if he was begging her.  "Mother and Father will be waiting at the shore… and Elrohir," he finished, trying to convince himself as well as her.  
  
But Arwen refused.  There was no light in her eyes, the even-star had been extinguished and there was only darkness left.  There was no place for her in Valinor, she said, nor any peace until she could leave the circles of the world and be reunited with her beloved.  
  
Throughout the dark night Arwen wept.  Elladan wept with her.  Each wept for those they would see no more, for each other, until neither had tears left.   Then Arwen determined what she would do, where she would go.  
  
Throughout the storm of sorrow Grandfather kept everyone else away.  As the first pale light touched the sky he called in Eldarion and his sisters.  Arwen gently kissed each one and then walked, with her head held high, on her brother's arm down to the courtyard of the Fountain.  Glorfindel stood there with Arwen's horse already saddled.  She mounted and then turned again to Elladan.  
  
"I love you so much, my brother, but I cannot stay with you," she said, her voice flattened, as if she had no more emotion.  "Do not follow me.  Go.  Take ship.  Tell Mother and Father, Elrohir and Grandmother that I love them."  
  
With that she wheeled her horse around and walked it down the many steps to the great gates of Minas Tirith.  As the sun began to shine across the Pelennor the dark figure of Gondor's Queen Dowager could be seen riding away to the northwest.  
  
Elladan stood, not moving, and then three figures approached him.    
  
"She did not forbid _me_ from following," Grandfather said, "and even if she had, I am still her grandfather and I was Lord of Lothlorien for Ages – she will not be there alone."  
  
"I will ride with Lord Celeborn, unless you need me more with you," Glorfindel said.  
  
"My ship," Legolas said, "is almost built."  
  
……………………………….  
  
Elladan felt that he _should_ follow his sister to the melancholy of the abandoned Golden Woods where, he knew, she intended to let herself fade.  But he no longer had the strength of fëa.  At Imladris there were trunks already packed with, not only his own most loved possessions, but also Elrohir's.  He accepted the offer of passage on Legolas' ship.  
  
When they cast off from the banks of the Anduin on a cold grey morning, leaving behind familiar lands wreathed in mist, Grandfather and Glorfindel had not returned.  Elladan tried not to think of Arwen but, like Legolas who was also leaving loved ones behind, to turn his face downstream and think of reunion with Elrohir.  
  
Within days the last of Arda slipped out of sight behind them.  Some of the elves on board sat quietly, others sang, as the sails were filled with a steady wind and the current seemed to carry them forward.  Gimli looked pensive.  Elladan wondered if he was as sure of his decision to accompany Legolas as he said he was.  
  
Legolas stood at the bow for hours on end – both in the still, pale, light of day and the star-lit night.  Elladan joined him often.  The further into the journey they got the more his thoughts turned, from Arwen and Estel, to Elrohir who would surely be the first to greet them.  
  
Then came a morning greyer than any yet; the ship sailed through soft mist that suddenly cleared and there, straight ahead, was land.  Smaller craft came to meet them and shepherd the ship to the harbour.    
  
Soon figures could be seen on the distant dock – Mother!  Father too, Grandmother behind them – Gimli would, indeed, see her again.  Elladan could not see Elrohir with their parents – he must be right out at the harbour's mouth, or even on one of the small boats – he would want to reach them as quickly as possible, he would…  Elladan stopped.  He closed his eyes to search with his fëa instead and felt… nothing.  Elrohir was not there.  
  
Suddenly his legs could no longer support him and he slumped down, onto one of the benches on the deck, his head between his knees.   He had been relying on Elrohir being here; now the loss of Arwen and Estel was added to the loss of his twin and he could not bear the weight of the sorrow.  
  
A warm hand was laid on his shoulder.  Nothing was said but he realised, with some surprise, that the person who stood in quiet understanding beside him was Gimli.  The dwarf remained at his side until a softer hand drew Elladan to his feet and his mother gathered him to herself.  
  
  
...............................................................................  
  
Yen - period of 144 years.  
  
Hroar - physical body.  
  
Fëa - the soul.  Elves believe it IS the Elf - the hroar purely the vessel to contain the fëa.  
  
Ilúvatar's gift - death.    
  
...............................................................................  
End of chapter two of three.


	3. Chapter Three

The next few months were… difficult.  Mother and Father were both so glad to see him; Mother in particular wanted to touch him, hold him, and spend all her time with him.  Mother who looked so well, almost as he remembered her from his youth, as he had feared he would never see her again.  He felt guilty because he could not enjoy this reunion with her as much as he should; he felt as if he did not have any emotion left to enjoy anything.  
  
Father was quieter, his presence should have been more restful than Mother's, but he had his own inner sadness as he mourned the death of Estel – the 'son of his heart'.  Both parents were, naturally, also distressed by what he had told them about Arwen, lost without her beloved husband and in retreat in the silent Golden Wood as she waited to fade.  Except that Elladan overheard them discuss the possibility that Grandfather would 'talk sense into her' and she would arrive, yet, on a ship from The Havens.  Elladan knew that it was a false hope.  
  
He realised too that, in a perverse way, both parents had welcomed the news of Elrohir's fatal fall when it had been sent to them within years of his death.  In that letter Elladan had told them of that last touch from Elrohir's fëa; the promise that, should Elladan take ship, they would meet in the Undying Lands.  A promise not yet kept, Elladan thought.  To his parents it was a promise that at least one son had chosen the path of the First Born – and they had realised that Elladan would, almost certainly, also choose to come to them in time, rather than endure the ages to come without his twin.    
  
He wondered if they really understood how much pain the sundering of the two fëar had caused him.  Surely Father must, even though it was long ages ago that Elros had chosen to take the mortal path, but he did not speak of it to Elladan, never said "I know what pain you are in."  Elladan wondered if it had been less painful for Father – perhaps, then, his own reaction to the loss of Elrohir was in some way wrong or unnatural?  
  
Then Grandmother arrived.  She spent time simply _being_ with him, saying little; her presence was unexpectedly calm and soothing.  Galadriel understood, he realised, more than Mother and Father seemed to; she was not surprised by his weariness and sorrow.  
  
"There is no hurry, Elladan," she told him, one day when he was particularly restive.  "Allow time to flow past you, do not try to catch it in your hands and measure it.  Elrohir told you that he had chosen the path of the First Born.  He will follow that path in the time that Lord Namo decides he needs.  
  
"How long?  How long is his path from Imladris to Valinor going to take, Grandmother?  Elladan asked.  "You have friends here, and relatives, who have followed the path through Mandos' Halls.  How long does it take?  I thought that he would be here, waiting for me…"  
  
"No-one can predict, my dear one," Grandmother answered, slowly.  "Some are there for only a short time as lived by those of us still in the world; others have remained in Mandos' Halls through almost all of time."  
  
"There must be some sort of rhyme or reason to it," Elladan suggested.  
  
"Those who might have, or perhaps should have, more to regret seem to take longer to regain equilibrium of their fëar and be able to be re-housed here in Aman.  Those who were involved in the Kin-slaying, and are now returned, spent many years in His Lordship's presence.  Others, who died in accidents, or were innocent victims, or slain by orcs, may only spend a little time there – as long as they have friends or kin here to rejoin."  
  
Elladan said nothing for some time.  It was a little over a century now since Elrohir's death, and he certainly had family here to rejoin.  Perhaps the twins' unstinting pursuit and slaughter of orcs had left Elrohir's fëa damaged.    
  
Or, a sudden and horrifying thought, Elrohir was being kept away from his twin as a punishment for Elladan – a punishment for their centuries of battle rage, or a punishment for not staying with Arwen.  
  
His anguish at that idea must have been so clear to Grandmother that she heard the thoughts.  
  
"No, dear one," she said, still gently, but with some of her old authority.  "One thing I do know, from conversations with reborn Galadhrim and reborn cousins, time in Mandos' Halls is not punishment for either the dead or the living.  When Elrohir returns to you he will be well, and whole, and very glad to be reunited with you.  
  
"Only Lord Namo knows whether that will be tomorrow, next week, or in many yéni; his decision will not depend on you.  To think so, Elladan, would be false pride."  
  
Grandmother stayed for some time.  Elladan began to learn how to do as she said, to let the time flow, to stop counting the days and weeks.  Slowly he also learn how to let go of his feelings of guilt, and to recognise that he was angry with Elrohir for abandoning him.  
  
It was strange, he thought, that it was Grandmother who helped him, not Father, despite Father being a great healer and also a twin who had been left alone.   One evening, as he walked through moonlit gardens with Grandmother, Elladan voiced that thought.  
  
"Perhaps your feelings are too well known to him," she answered.  "If he truly listens to you, looks into your heart and realises how hurt you have been by those years that you stayed in Arda as a strength and comfort to Aragorn and Arwen, his own pain might become as if new again."  
  
Elladan considered this and decided that Grandmother was probably right.  He would not want to cause Father to relive the sort of pain and despair he had felt at the loss of his own twin and so, he decided, he would keep this pain to himself or share it only with Grandmother.  
  
Eventually there came a time when Grandmother decided it was time for her to leave and return to her own new home.  Before she did so she suggested that Elladan discuss his true feelings with Celebrian.  In fact Galadriel sat with them both and ensured that her daughter and her grandson shared, honestly, how both had felt over the whole time since Celebrian's attack by the orcs.  The hours spent doing so were painful, but cathartic.  
  
Elladan felt at peace with his mother, and had decided for himself how to interact as honestly as possible with his father, and at last he began to feel the promised healing of the Undying Lands.  He waved his grandmother farewell with an easier heart, and a promise to visit her… some time… whenever he wished.  
  
……………………………….  
  
One evening the small family of three sat in the garden, by moonlight, and Mother asked Elladan did he think his grandfather would come to join them in the West?    
  
"Yes," he answered, with no hesitation, "eventually."  
  
Glorfindel wanted to return to the place of his birth, wanted to be reunited with both his long unseen relatives and with this, his adopted family.  Glorfindel would not come without Grandfather – and so Grandfather would come eventually, for Glorfindel's sake… and to be reunited with Grandmother.  The time they had been apart, since Grandmother came West, was a tiny drop in the sea of their life together and it was impossible to imagine them apart for ever.  Grandmother, Elladan knew, felt in her fëa that they would be reunited.  
  
Perhaps, he thought, Grandfather and Glorfindel would arrive by sea before Elrohir left the realm of Lord Namo – perhaps not – but, eventually, those who remained within the circles of the world would all be together.  There was now, for their family at least, no longer any sense of running out of time.  
  
He still felt some guilt, because he had not stayed with Arwen until the last, and he was not sure that his father really had accepted that he would not see her again; although he thought Mother had, now.  He wondered whether Grandfather would send them the final word in a letter, or would come himself?   It would be best for Mother if he brought the news in person – being re-united with her beloved father would help ease the pain of finally knowing there was no hope of her seeing her daughter.  But Grandfather's arrival would be no such comfort for Father.  
  
These thoughts were still in Elladan's head as he lay down on the bed in the room he finally thought of as 'my bedroom'.  He slowly let go of them and found, instead, that his thoughts drifted to times with Arwen and Elrohir when they were all still young.  Good memories; he turned them over in his mind and felt no sorrow, no guilt, no anger at being left alone… he was smiling as he drifted into sleep.  
  
He woke with the instant awareness of his surroundings, gained during the years of riding against orcs, not the more leisurely return to full consciousness of more recent times.  Something had woken him.  His hand went, without thought, for his sword – a sword that was no longer at his side, not here.  
  
Someone was in the room!  Someone was… and suddenly he knew.  He turned his head slowly and there, illuminated by the moonlight, was Elrohir.  Naked, and looking slightly bemused, Elrohir sat with his knees drawn up, his arms around them, on the edge of the bed, watching Elladan.  
  
There was a moment of silence – almost of disbelief – and then, slowly, each put a hand out towards the other's face.  The touches were mutually gentle, and they remained like that for some time.  When Elladan had imagined this reunion he had always thought of them running to each other, clasping each other as warriors and then hugging each other, Elf-like or not, chest to chest.  But this quiet reconnection of their fëar was right – it was how it should be.  
  
"Where are we, Dan?" were Elrohir's first words.  Again, not at all as Elladan had imagined.  
  
"This is my bedroom in Mother and Father's house.  We are in the Undying Lands, Elro.  I… we… have been waiting for you."  
  
Suddenly there was a flash of humour in Elrohir's eyes.  "I came as soon as I could, Dan…"  
  
After a pause Elrohir continued, "Lord Namo called me to his presence and told me it was my time to be returned to the world.  He laid a hand on my shoulder and then gestured me to pass through a door – and on the other side I was here…  I…  It feels strange, still, to have my body again."  
  
Elladan supposed it would.  But he had to ask the obvious question.  
  
"What was it like, Elro?"  
  
"It is hard to describe.  I was me, but – less solid.  It felt as if… as if I was lying in a warm pool, floating in moonlight.  There were others there, and sometimes we would converse, but I do not think we used words out loud.  Sometimes Lord Namo spoke to us.  Sometimes I think he listened to my thoughts.  I was quite happy – except that you were not with me."  
  
He paused again, then added, softly, "I am so glad, Dan, to be back together."  
  
Now they finally did hug each other and then sat, as they had as children, their arms around each other's shoulder beneath one set of bedding.  
  
Tomorrow Elladan would have to share his brother with Mother and Father, but Lord Namo had given them these hours together first.  They talked.  
  
"I was so angry, Dan.  I was angry at myself for not keeping control of the horse, for dying in such a stupid way!"  
  
"I was angry, too, Elro.  I was angry with myself for letting you die.  Then," the difficult admission, "I… I was angry at you, too, for leaving me to cope.  I didn't even realise how angry I had been with you until I spoke of it, here, with Grandmother."  
  
Elladan almost expected Elrohir to be annoyed by the thought of his brother blaming him for dying – but instead Elrohir grinned.  
  
"I do not think we could ever have imagined _Grandmother_ helping you to come to terms with your anger at the same time as Lord Namo helped me with mine.  An unlikely couple!"  
  
A little later.  "I felt so guilty for letting you die; and then Arwen, too, blamed me at first…"  
  
"I know."  
  
"You know?"  How could Elrohir know of events that had happened since his death?  
  
"She told me."  
  
"She _told_ you?"  
  
Elrohir seemed to be gathering his thoughts together and then, rather haltingly, explained.  "I met with both Estel and Arwen.   I know not where their fëar went after our meeting, but Estel came first to Mandos before he went… wherever mortals go. One day one of those who serve Lord Namo called me to follow him and I found myself in a room.  Well, not exactly a room, but… somewhere.  
  
"At first I thought Lord Namo must want to speak with me, but then I knew someone else had entered and – it was Estel!  We spoke.  I do not know how long we were together – time was so very different in The Halls – but I was able to share his memories of the children as they grew, of you, of Arwen.  
  
"Estel expected Arwen would join us quickly – it was wonderful that we had been granted the time to say farewell as he awaited her – and we were told that I would also be able to say farewell to Arwen.  Estel and I both expected this to happen very soon after we found ourselves together but, even with the… fluid way that time passed for us, we realised that Arwen could not have passed easily and quickly from her life in Arda.  
  
"I think Estel feared that she had changed her mind – perhaps he was caught, even in death, between wanting her to follow him to wherever he was going and wanting her to choose _our_ path…  
  
"But she did come and she was so happy to find Estel waiting for her.  I was blessed that I was able to say goodbye to her.  We parted, the three of us, in love.  I do not think it was that very long ago.  It does not feel as if there has been much time between saying goodbye to them and finding myself here with you."  
  
It had never occurred to Elladan that Lord Namo would arrange for Estel and Arwen to say their farewells to Elrohir; that he would care so much about each individual fëa in his care.  He felt a tear trickle down his cheek and realised that he was crying for the first time since he had last held Arwen. Now Elrohir held him; they were at peace together.  
  
The first rays of sunshine crept into the room; Elrohir's first dawn in Aman.  
  
"Your own bedroom is across the corridor," Elladan told him, "but for now we can dress you from my wardrobe, before I have to share you with Mother and Father."  
  
"Mother…"  Elrohir looked as if he could hardly believe that he would soon be reunited with Celebrian.  
  
Elladan knew that the news of Estel and Arwen, news that had comforted him, would end all hope of Father's that Arwen might, yet, join them here.  But surely the joy of regaining Elrohir would make up for it?  
  
But then, he realised, with Elrohir back and beside him, it almost did not matter; he felt as though his fëa was fully whole again and  he could face anything.  Life, with all its possibilities, was in front of them and, now, they could live it to the full.  
  
Together, they walked out of the door.  
  
 **The End**

Banner made by Ningloreth from an original piece of art by Ebbe Karstein. 


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